We're living in times of massive change. The big picture view of what’s next is dimly lit and obscured by fog. Our collective future—as a country, as humans, as a planet—feels uncertain and when our external existence seems threatened, our inner alarms screech in a constant state of high alert. This can be exhausting, confusing, and harmful—physically, mentally, emotionally, and energetically.
My life over the past few years has felt like one long string of transition and uncertainty woven together. I’ve been running this marathon, from change to more change, for years now. I’ve gone through the freak outs, the burnouts, the worst-case scenarios, the attempts to control, the feeling of hopelessness, the fear that I’m fighting a losing battle, and I’ve lost a lot of energy dragging myself through life that way. My current landscape of change includes birthing creative babies, carving a new career path, and a cross-country move back to the west coast after nearly a decade in New York City. There are so many external pieces of my life shifting and transforming, all amidst the bigger changes occurring in our political system, our planet, and our collective reality.
Clearing space for new life and new growth often requires a massive upheaval and it’s natural to feel fear and uncertainty arising during these times. But even when the ground is shaking and the buildings are crumbling around you, there’s a way to remain stable, secure, and grounded in yourself and your connection to Life.
Change is both a destructive and a creative force. Change is not linear; it’s a constant cycle of endings and beginnings. Depending on how you work with those transitions and transformations, it can be an exhausting process or an energizing one. (I’ve tried both approaches and I prefer the latter.) For me, the exhaustion comes when I try to control external circumstances, attempt to change what isn’t mine to fix, hold onto rigidity and expectations, and place my sense of stability in external people, places, or things. The process becomes energizing when I can find strength in flexibility, open my heart to whatever comes (no exceptions), and put my roots down in the safety of my inner home—becoming anchored and grounded in myself regardless of the chaos surrounding me.
When I feel like I’m spinning out, when my energy feels scattered, or when I feel stuck in a mental blizzard, these are some of my favorite grounding practices:
· Nourishing food + quality time – Even the process of slowing down and cooking a meal (especially for us New Yorkers) can be grounding. Sharing that meal and spending time with people who nourish your spirit is a bonus.
· Connecting with nature – City folks might need to get a little more creative with this one, but it’s possible! Even cities have trees, grass, birds, and squirrels. And although the sounds of the city aren’t always “meditative,” bringing those sounds, even the harsh ones, into your awareness can be a way to ground you in the present moment and connect more deeply to your senses. For the folks who have more direct access to nature, escaping for a barefoot walk in the woods, or listening to the waves hit the shore, or lying down in a field of grass and watching the clouds pass, are all wonderful grounding practices.
· Sacred space – Creating an altar or sacred space in your home where you meditate and connect with your body is incredibly grounding (no phones allowed). Even when I’m traveling, I’ll take a little piece of my altar with me—a stone, a photo, a talisman—to connect me to that space when I’m on the road.
· Meditation – Connecting to your body in the present moment is the easiest, most accessible grounding practice there is—you can take three deep breaths no matter where you are! You are supported and held by Earth energy, whether you notice it or not, and you can intentionally call on that support whenever you need it, simply by bringing your awareness back to your body and your breath. Meditation guides you back to yourself, connects you to the Earth, and returns you to the stability and security inherent in every breath. Remember that the present moment is your anchor during tumultuous times—it's the one constant you can return to without fail.